Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Marcie

There is nothing awkward about working shoulder to shoulder with Ethan in his kitchen. We're making dinner and are the only ones in the big house. Miranda organized the ingredients for us to make fajitas and Spanish rice, a sweet surprise when I arrived as I'd mentioned earlier this week that it's my favorite meal.

Ethan's preparing the rice to put on the stove and I'm slicing onions and peppers. The chicken is washed and patted dry, ready for the knife.

I glance over at Renault, lying near the back door, his head on his paws. Every once in a while, he chuffs or lets out a low whine. I think he misses Sylvie, who's having an overnight stay with the Mardraggons.

"How are you feeling about Sylvie's overnight?" I ask as I cut the top off a yellow pepper.

Ethan clicks on the gas burner and sets the pot on the flame. "I hate it but I think it's necessary."

"That's an interesting word." I turn to face him. "You didn't say you thought it was good for Sylvie."

He lifts a shoulder and walks to my side, snagging a strip of red pepper I'd already cut and taking a bite. "I have no clue if it will be good for her. On the one hand, they're the closest thing she has to her mother, especially Gabe who, from what I can glean, was pretty close to Alaine and Sylvie. But Rosemund and Lionel… I don't think she gets anything from them. It's just weird."

"Not all grandparents are cut from the same cloth," I murmur, turning back to my work. I've observed Fi and Tommy Blackburn this past week and they were born to be grandparents. They treat Sylvie with utter kindness and respect, and she gives it back in equal measure. There's no doubt they're smitten with her and I can see their bond growing.

"When I dropped her off, Rosemund was just waiting at the door, hands clasped before her. She looked… imperious and so unwelcoming. Of course, most of that was directed at me since I walked Sylvie to the door. All she said was ‘Hello, Sylvie,' and Sylvie politely said, ‘Hello, Rosemund.' I know that's the way it's always been with that family, but damn… it's so cold."

"I find it fascinating that Alaine and Gabe don't have that same coolness. I wonder where they unlearned that behavior?"

"Alaine most likely because she lived in another country. Gabe? Not sure. I still think he's an asshole," he says. I can't help but laugh and Ethan winks at me. "I will admit with great pleasure though, I got immense satisfaction when Sylvie gave me a big hug before I left. Rosemund looked like someone had rubbed shit under her nose as she watched us."

I snort-laugh and shake my head. "You're so bad."

But he's really not. I love that Ethan is gaining every ounce of pleasure from fatherhood. He told me about Sylvie's hug after he told her he loved her. Just as he's proudly told me every other milestone in their relationship from this past week. Since our first kiss five days ago, we've seen each other every day. I've been to his house for dinner twice, once with his entire family and once with just Sylvie, after which we played board games until it was way past Sylvie's bedtime on a school night. But we were having so much fun, I could tell Ethan didn't want to stop.

I came out to the farm one day for lunch and we had a quick sandwich and chips as he drove me around the vast acreage for the grand tour. My favorite was visiting the yearlings who are like big puppies all vying for attention and scratches.

Last night, he took me out for a very nice dinner at the same steakhouse where we ate at the bar. Except this time, we sat at a romantic table with candlelight and talked for over two hours as we stretched the meal.

And every night has ended with kisses that turn increasingly fiery and needful, but always end when Ethan breaks the kiss. It's both frustrating and exhilarating as we both know it's only a matter of time before we take things all the way.

Tonight might even be that night.

The best part of this week though, is despite us parting ways at the end of each evening, Ethan always calls me before he drifts off to sleep. We spend five to ten minutes, both of us lying in our beds, talking about what's ahead for the next day. Every night, I go to sleep with a smile on my face.

I think cooking dinner together in his home might actually be the perfect date. Intimate, quiet, casual. Just the two of us… alone. The first time since we've started seeing each other that Sylvie isn't here.

Very alone.

"… PTA meeting Monday?"

I jolt, realizing that Ethan's talking and I have no idea what he's just said. "Um, sorry, what?"

He leans over, kisses the top of my head. A sweet, affectionate move that shouldn't make my blood race the way it does. "I said, you have that PTA meeting on Monday. Are you worried about it?"

"Not really. I mean… my hands are tied by the superintendent, but I expect it's going to be a free-for-all. There are a lot of divided feelings."

He's talking about a meeting called by the Parent Teacher Association to discuss a list of books that some of the parents want to ban. There will be members from the county board of education in attendance and I expect it will get heated. Yours truly will moderate and it's going to suck because I cannot take a position, even though I'm firmly against book banning.

"I got your back," he says, and that means more to me than it should. Ethan shouldn't have to take my side, but rather do what he believes in for Sylvie's sake. We've talked at length about it and he's against the ban too, and in fact, he went and bought every book on the list for his daughter.

But it's what makes walking the ethical edge of this knife we're on a little precarious. There's no direct conflict with me dating a parent. I checked. But Ethan and I decided it's best that we don't flaunt the relationship in any way.

"Speaking of having your back, I assume Abby and Kellen are still arriving tomorrow?"

Ethan chuckles. "Yeah, they'll be in by dinnertime."

Abby is Ethan's younger sister and Kat's identical twin. She's a small animal veterinarian in Pittsburgh and her husband, Kellen, is a private security expert and former U.S. Marine. While much of it is water under the bridge, Ethan and Kellen had quite the rocky start when he first started dating Abby. I was thoroughly entertained by the dramatic story of how Abby tried to take down a crooked puppy mill owner by stealing dogs, getting shot at and ultimately almost killed in a barn fire set by the man. Kellen was there to protect her through it all but Ethan has a bit of a grudge against him for letting his sister get involved in the first place. Apparently, Kellen didn't like Ethan's judgment and overbearing protectiveness. I'm prepared, based on what Ethan's told me, for the two men to snipe at each other—although probably in more of a teasing way—and hence why I have his back.

But truly, Abby is here to meet Sylvie and I expect it's going to be an all-around fun time. I was thrilled that it wasn't just Ethan who invited me to the family dinner tomorrow but Sylvie, who was most adamant she wanted me present. I think because I was the little girl's first trusted confidante and the one who placed myself solidly in her corner at the start. Our bond was instantly formed and solidified by the relationship I've developed with her father, who she also now sees as a trustworthy advocate.

Finishing the last pepper, I wipe my hands on a towel before pulling the large white onion toward me. I take a deep breath of fortification and say, "I hope you don't mind women who cry." Ethan stares down at me in question. I hold up the onion. "Gets me every time."

He smiles and takes the onion from my hand, setting it on the counter far away from me. He takes the knife away as well. I assume he means to cut the onion, but he merely puts the utensil down before turning to face me fully.

The glint in his eye prickles my skin. Stepping into me, his hands come to rest on my shoulders. "It occurs to me that I haven't gotten a kiss from you yet. You walked right in and started flitting about the kitchen."

I lift my chin. "I don't flit."

His laugh is soft and rumbling as his eyes roam over my face. "No, I don't suppose you do."

Dipping his head, Ethan glides his lips over mine. Just a soft touch but I feel it all the way to my toes as he whispers, "How hungry are you?"

"I had a late lunch," I murmur back.

I feel his smile against my mouth just before he deepens the kiss. I melt into it without any will of my own. Ethan's hands drop down my arms, his thumbs grazing the sides of my breasts while his tongue tangles with mine. My head falls back and then his mouth is on my neck, trailing teeth and lips along my sensitive skin.

My breath clogs in my throat as he pulls my shirt up and over my head so quickly, I can't even process what's going on. The cool air hits my skin, pebbles my nipples in my bra.

Ethan leans back slightly, looks between our bodies and slides a finger down the center of my chest to tap against the front clasp. "I wonder what would happen if I popped this open," he muses softly, eyes pinned on my breasts held in place by the black satin. He poses the question to himself, not me, and I wait breathlessly to see what he does.

Green eyes lift to meet mine. There's no request for permission but rather a statement that he's going to take what he wants, and God help me… that's so damn sexy I can barely think. Without looking back down again, Ethan expertly flicks open the front clasp of my bra. My breasts spill free and yet Ethan keeps his eyes on mine.

Finally, he looks down and apparently he likes what he sees because his growl rumbles so hard that I feel it in my chest.

Large, warm, calloused hands test the weight of my flesh. Thumbs drag across nipples, leaving me weak… dizzy.

"Love the way you feel in my hands," he says, words harsh and guttural. "I'm thinking they'll feel better in my mouth."

A tremor racks my body, not from his touch but from his words.

I've never heard those words before and they're as pleasure-inducing as the chaos his fingers create.

I go to my tiptoes, put my mouth against his and fall into a kiss that is so consuming, every bit of my control is swept away. Ethan continues to stroke, glide and squeeze while my world spins crazier with lust and passion.

He's seducing me with very little effort and I've completely surrendered.

A flash of reason seeps into my fogged brain and I realize… I need to feel him. I want to touch his skin, feel the muscles underneath, understand the strength that is there. I tug at his T-shirt, lifting it just enough for my hands to slide under. So warm and smooth and rippled. I push my hands up to his chest, pressing into the solid muscles honed by hard work and dedication.

I let out a tiny cry of surprise when I find myself lifted, only for my butt to come down on the edge of the counter. I vaguely hear Ethan pushing stuff out of the way and then his mouth is on my breast. My hands grab his head, fingers sliding into his hair, and I grip hard to keep him right where he's at. I feel his reverberating chuckle before he sucks hard on my nipple.

His mouth is so hot and demanding. Ethan is in total control of my body and I'm not sure there's anything I wouldn't do if he asked. I get the sense he doesn't want me to offer but wants to take. Maybe even destroy me.

And yet… I trust him implicitly that whatever havoc he's wreaking, it's only done with the intention to make me fly.

I'm barely cognizant of the zipper on my jeans being tugged down and then Ethan is peeling them away, taking my panties right along, past my socked feet. My instinct is to protest because we're in a bright kitchen and I'm on a counter and so exposed and vulnerable, but his mouth is on mine again and I fall back under his spell so thoroughly, I've surrendered.

Ethan's hands are on my breasts, between my legs. Stroking and teasing, gentle, then rough. I'm hot, shaking and needy, strung so tight that I can barely breathe. He keeps me on the edge, sensing when I get close and then backing off.

He drives me up, pulls me down, slinging my sensations all over the place.

It's too much, but really not enough.

I want to demand more and plead with him to stop, but in my heart of hearts, I know that Ethan is going to do what Ethan wants, and that's what's best for me.

Lifting his head, Ethan peers down into my eyes, his fingers still working magic between my legs. I'm embarrassed and shy and start to turn my head.

"Oh no you don't," he growls. "Keep those pretty eyes on me. I want to see what color they change to when you come."

"Oh God," I mutter, but I don't look away again.

We stare at each other as his fingers probe slick flesh, circle sensitive nerves, and when that burst of pleasure he was seeking for me starts to rage, when he feels it breaking free, he says, "There's my girl. Let go, Marcie."

And I do. I cry out as decadent spasms rip through my body, racing through my very veins, down every nerve until I feel it everywhere. I shudder as wave after wave sucks me under and just when I think it starts to ebb, Ethan spreads my legs to wrap around his waist. He drives into me in one fluid thrust and another massive ripple of pleasure races up my spine.

"Ethan," I sob into his shoulder, my arms wrapping around him to hang on. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop."

My chants are met with answering thrusts, his ragged breath mingling with mine. "Never going to stop, baby."

Ethan rides me hard and fast, one hand gripping a thigh and the other pressed down into the counter for leverage. A shock of black hair falls over his forehead, but I don't have the urge to sweep it back. Instead, I want to pull on it and demand he go harder.

I have no clue what has become of the Marcie who thought lovemaking was something done on soft sheets with dim lights, but this wild and unrestrained mating of our bodies has me wondering what in the hell I've been missing all my adult life.

Ethan rocks into me deep, presses his forehead against mine and groans out his release. My palms against his back feel the shudders of pleasure, and I can tell this experience wrecked him as much as it did me.

Gathering me in close, our torsos pressed against each other, I feel the slam of his heartbeat against my own.

"Christ that was good," he finally says, and tenderness wells within me. Now my fingers go to his hair, brush it back from his face.

"Really good," I agree.

He lifts his face and grins down at me. "How hungry are you now?"

"Not really thinking about food."

"Good," he says, scooping me from the counter and turning for the stairs. It's then that I realize, Ethan's still fully dressed and he'd opened up his jeans to free himself before fucking me. I giggle because that's about the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"What's so funny?" he asks as he takes the stairs, strong arms holding me securely.

"It's just… that seemed so feral. I'm naked except for my socks and you're still dressed."

"Going to remedy that as soon as I get to my bedroom," he says. "Then we'll be even."

"We'll never be even after what you just did to me," I mutter.

Ethan laughs, deep from within his chest, and as we enter his bedroom, he presses a soft kiss to my mouth. He lies me down on the bed, looming over me with a serious expression. "Watching you come was seriously the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. And that wasn't even the best I've got to give you. I think you might be right, darling. You and I are never going to be even."

His mouth presses down on mine and his tongue slides in, quickly putting me back under his thrall. His hand is back between my legs and before I lose that last vestige of reason, I remember thinking to myself that I could get very used to this.